


Counting On It

by persikaaan



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne - Freeform, Apple - Freeform, Cute, F/M, Fluff, I really don't know, School, reader - Freeform, spelling bee, this is my first anne with an e writing don't kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 19:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15468321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persikaaan/pseuds/persikaaan
Summary: Your family's farm hadn't ben doing that well during harvest season. The money barely covered the food expenses, which left you without lunch in school a lot of times. Gilbert Blythe, your childhood friend notices and offers you one of his trademarked orchard apples.





	Counting On It

Gilbert had never understood the obsession with being skinny. All the girls at school desired to be thin as sticks, perhaps because they thought it looked elegant and pretty. Maybe it was because he was a boy, but Gilbert didn’t really mind about weight or appearances in general. His main idea of being attractive was having a good personality. 

Perhaps that was why he liked you so much. You weren’t afraid to get dirt on your clothes or mess up your hair, unlike the other girls. You valued your intellect, always striving to be the cleverest in the room. And anyone could safely say you succeeded. After all, you were one of the brightest students in all of Avonlea. Miss Stacey always praised your ability to answer every question thrown at you, even though you rarely raised your hand. While growing up, Gilbert had always had a small rivalry with you. Spelling-Bee’s were more like bloodbaths than friendly class competitions. It had always ended in a draw between the two of you as long as he could remember. 

But, that all changed today. 

It was a cold autumn day, and all the kids were screaming in excitement over the thrilling competition. There was an unwritten rule that you and Gilbert would always be the finalists. So, it didn’t take long until all the other children had been eliminated, leaving you and Gilbert the last ones standing next to each other at the blackboard, ready to spell out any word Miss Stacey threw at you. The students were all gripping their seats in anticipation – the girls cheering you on and the guys yelling at Gilbert to win for once. 

Most of the time, you were just as excited as everyone else – peppng yourself up to win over Gilbert Blythe. But today, you were silent – gripping a pen in your hand so hard that your knuckles turned white. Gilbert furrowed his brows when he caught you squeezing your eyes shut while biting your tongue. 

“Gilbert, let’s start with you.” Miss Stacey’s voice snapped Gilbert back to reality, forcing his eyes to focus on the teacher. “Spell millennium.”

He shot one last worried glance towards you before sighing and turning his gaze forward. “M-I-L-L-E-N-N-I-U-M.”

”That is correct.” Miss Stacey made a satisfied hum. 

Numerous ear-deafening yells from the boys on the right side of the classroom erupted, most of them over-joyed over the possibility of your downfall. The girls sighed a little, but gave you reassuring smile.

Your eyelids weren’t squeezed shut anymore, instead you looked tiredly into the distance while letting your hands fall limply at your sides. Gilbert had never seen you like this before. Given, you weren’t the most talkative person – he learned that the hard way by failing to keep up a conversation with you because you ran away. But, you were almost always wearing a small smile, cheeks flushed due to running around. 

“Y/N, spell cemetery.” 

No reaction. 

Miss Stacey worriedly looked up from her list of words. “Y/N?”

Your body felt limp. The truth was that you hadn’t had much to eat the last few days. Your family’s farm was having a bad time, the harvest season not giving much to sell or eat. Your father had still insisted for you to go to school anyways, even if your family couldn’t afford it. You had a thin slice of stale bread for breakfast, but that was about it. The lack of nutrition didn’t do good for your body and you honestly felt like collapsing on the floor in exhaustion. 

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” Miss Stacey’s voice echoed in your head, making you groan and put your hand up to your forehead. 

“I… I don’t know, miss.” You muttered, clenching your jaw. “Can we go on break now?”

There was a pregnant silence filling the room. “S-Sure, Y/N.” The teacher frowned a little, confused over the fact that you didn’t even try. “I suppose that this makes Gilbert the winner of this week’s spelling-bee. Everyone are dismissed.”

Gilbert stared dumbfoundedly as the boys roared in celebration, rising from their seats to dunk him in the back for finally winning over you. The know-it-all Y/N lost to Gilbert? And also the fact that you didn’t know the spelling of “cemetery”? He shook his head as he turned around to face you. Something was wrong.

“Hey, Y/N-“

“Congratulations on your victory, Blythe.” You forced a polite, monotone response even though you wanted to do anything but speak right now. “You deserve it.”

And with those words, you hurriedly exited the conversation, not even sparing the flabbergasted boy a single glance. Swiftly navigating through the chaos of students enjoying their lunch, you snapped up your book from the desk and exited the classroom. Gilbert quickly followed, after taking his lunch-basket and coat with him. 

As soon as he entered the outdoors, he felt the cold, harsh Canadian winds pull on his hair. He shivered, wondering how you could run off without a proper coat in this harsh weather. When he saw foot-steps leading around the school to the creek flowing next to it, he took no extra time to idle but followed them. He found you sitting on an oak stump, nose in a book almost as thick as the Bible. Your body trembled in the cold, and as Gilbert came closer, he saw the dark rings under your eyes. 

“You’re not feeling hungry?” He asked, making your eyes dart up to look at his. 

Nervously biting your lower lip, you open your mouth. “I’m not.” You lied. 

“You sure?” He kept pushing, taking a seat next to you on the ground. “I have some apples from my orchard, want some?” He could almost see your internal battle. He didn’t know what was so hard to decide about an apple. 

“…I suppose I could take one.” You answered after a few more moments of silence. 

A small victorious smile appeared on Gilbert’s lips. “Here you go.” 

The two of you ate each apple in silence, just breathing in the scent of fallen wet leaves and listening to the sound of the howling autumn wind. Each time your teeth sank into the crisp red apple, you muffled a sigh in pure joy. It’d been weeks since you had something that actually tasted something. Your diet had mostly been consisting of small pieces of bland bread or very watered out oat-meal without milk. The sweet taste of apple made you feel like you’d entered heaven. Gilbert chuckled slightly at your reaction. Apples were something his family ate almost every day, something that was mundane – but you treated it like it was gold. 

When you’d taken the last possible bite of the apple, you slowly stood up again, gripping your book hard. “Thank you for the apple, it was very kind of you.”

“Wait-“ Gilbert gripped your wrist before you could run off again. “I.. I have a sandwich you could have if you want.”

Your eyes did that thing again. The thing they do when you get excited. They shimmered. It was like a thousand stars started sparkling in your beautiful (Y/EC) eyes. A charming gleam that had been hidden just revealed itself and he adored every single part of it. 

“Are you sure? You’re not feeling hungry?” You repeated his words with a smile. 

Oh, how he loved your smile. 

He shook his head quickly. “I’m really not, I had a pretty big breakfast.” Digging in the basket, he fished up a brown packet. “Here, take it.”

You smiled again, taking the package. “That was weirdly kind of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you normally don’t give your lunch to your fiercest rival.”  
“Oh,” He scoffed, amused. “You’re not really seen as my ‘fiercest rival’ now that I’ve won.”

You rolled your eyes with an uncontrollable grin. “Don’t get too cocky, Blythe. I’ll defeat you next week.”

“I’m counting on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> i know i can do better than this so just wait i'll post a shirtbert fic soon.. pls tell me what u think of this one tho and what i can improve


End file.
